That Kind of Guy
by a thousand winds
Summary: A whore receives a visit from a disturbing client. [IllsaidexOFC, implied IllsaidexFalan]


**Title: **That Kind of Guy  
**Author:** Anchansan  
**Fandom:** Vampire Game  
**Theme:** #1 - hazel eyes  
**Pairing:** Illsaide/Falan  
**Rating:** 15+ (the rating system used in Britain)  
**Disclaimer:** All characters and situations property of Judal.  
**Notes: **Illsaide/OFC, more like. Implied Illsaide/Falan and if you squint very, very hard, Vord/Falan as well.

* * *

It probably should have been a dark and stormy night, the night I met him. It wasn't, mind. The weather doesn't take the moods of whores into account, only princesses'. It'd never stop thundering if it did.

In Ci Xeneth, though, the weather's always shite, so it was still pouring with rain. April showers, they called 'em. April, May _and_ June, more like. The guy came in and he shook the drops off his coat and out of his hair. When he looked over at Madam, his eyes were unfocused and he walked like someone in a dream. I figured he was doping on something, maybe lilkescale, and hoped Madam wouldn't give him to me. I've never been much good with dopers.

She did, though. He asked for someone with silver hair and I'm the only one in the house with it. My mum reckoned we were by-blows of the House of Phelios, but my mum was never as connected to the world as she could've been, the absinthe saw to that. Mind you, some guys go for the idea. Madam says it's a big draw, since screwing me is the closest most of them will ever get to the royal family.

When Madam showed him up, she was frowning just a bit, so you could tell she was worried but there was no way she was going to say anything, not to someone so obviously a nob. I realised why as soon as she closed the door.

You get a guy like that every couple of months and generally you just have to get on with it and do the best you can. They're not always violent, but they usually end up that way. It's better if they are, if you're quick and you can scream loud enough. They don't come back once they're escorted out.

This one wasn't. He was just quiet, quiet and unfocused and as scary as all get out, but he never hurt me. He just stared up at the rafters, where the rain was pattering down. There weren't any leaks, so I asked him what he was doing.

"Listening," he replied. I tried listening, too, but all I heard was the rain.

We stayed like that for ten minutes, maybe. Then he seemed to come back to himself and grabbed my wrist. I wasn't expecting it and I must have looked as nervous as I felt, because he smiled like he was trying to reassure me. It just made me feel even worse, but I'd got it under control by then.

I smiled and pulled him onto the bed, undoing fastenings and kissing the skin beneath the cloth. It was good stuff, like nobs always have, and it was easy to get off, but even though he'd been wrapped up so warmly, his flesh was cold. Like a corpse, though he wasn't undead by any stretch of the imagination. Just – cold.

The sex was all right. Better than some. Hard and fast and rough, like he was scared something would happen to stop us. He probably was. He closed his eyes in the middle of it, like he couldn't look at me. Afterwards, he buried his face in the pillow and started sobbing. Not with tears, but his shoulders were heaving violently and he was making noises like his chest hurt, like he couldn't breathe properly. No one gets like that just from sex, especially not someone who looked like he trained with an army.

When he finally managed to calm down, he gazed at me for a minute and then, when I put a hand on his shoulder, jerked away. He snatched up his clothes and dressed as quickly as possible, stealing short glances at me when he thought I wasn't watching. It was like he couldn't believe what he'd done. That happens at least three times a week, usually with first timers, but there're a couple of repeat sinners. They're kind of funny, but you don't laugh in their faces, though it's hard not to.

I never saw him again, but I always wondered why he came in the first place. The Princess has silver hair – we don't look so different, her eyes are blue and mine are hazel, that's all – maybe he had a thing for her. I don't know. As for why he never came back, well. You'd have to track him down and ask that. I don't envy you. Take a sword.


End file.
